


between two points

by kahvikummitus



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Sharing a Bed, like cliches and stuff, references to movies that don't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 17:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14360604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kahvikummitus/pseuds/kahvikummitus
Summary: Based on this beautiful prompt: "the ultimate trope OR sharing the bed EXCEPT instead of things going saucy they get annoying because (newt) is a fuckin space hog and so (hermann) starts mathing the bed like THIS is ur space THIS is mine blah blah something something", requested by the amazing spektri.So I had Newt and Hermann travel to a K-science conference and share a bed. Rated T for a swear word you have already seen in this summary.





	between two points

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spektri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spektri/gifts).



> Is it still self-indulgent if you're writing it for someone else? (Yes, probably, in this case definitely.)
> 
> I did look up a Wikipedia article on standard mattress sizes for this. It was enlightening, and I personally disagree about it having “an excessive amount of intricate detail that may only interest a specific audience” although it’s also possible I just happen to be that specific audience.

Hermann is okay with travelling with Newt to the K-science conference. He’s okay with sitting next to him on the plane, even sharing a hotel room. The PPDC doesn’t have unlimited money anymore, and a shared room is cheaper - in fact, at this point it’s a wonder this conference got funding to happen at all, and another wonder Newt and Hermann both got to go.

They survive the airport, the plane, the other airport - Newt with the power of overpriced airport coffee, Hermann with the assistance of noise-cancelling headphones. They get a cab to the hotel, try to figure out what date it is as they crossed the dateline flying across the Pacific, check in, and find themselves in a room with one bed. A double bed, but still. Just the one.

They stare at the bed for a bit, in case they were mistaken and any minute now it’s going to reveal itself to actually be two single beds an appropriate distance apart. The bed remains a double bed. Hermann sits on the edge and lets the weight of his rucksack pull him down. He’s exhausted. Newt can deal with this. (Newt attempts to deal with it, but is unsuccessful. They are stuck with the double bed that refuses to turn itself into anything else.)

\--

The first time Hermann sleeps in the bed is fine, because he’s in it alone. This is because he’s taking a nap before the actual start of the conference, while Newt is sitting at the tiny hotel room desk feeling his caffeine levels drop as he reviews his presentation. (“Review” is a word which here means “preparing from scratch and spending twenty minutes picking out a background colour for his slideshow” - in Newt’s defense, Hermann did most of his on the plane.)

Newt finishes lining up his images, saves the slideshow on a memory stick and sends it to himself, then saves it on Hermann’s memory stick and sends it to Hermann’s email just to be sure. Then he checks the time, and finds he still has an hour before Hermann wants to be woken from his nap. He contemplates going to find himself more caffeine, and justifies it with the thought that maybe Hermann would appreciate some caffeine when he wakes up. There is technically a kettle in the hotel room, but given Hermann’s face when he peeked into it earlier, the kettle might be better off not existing. There’s also the new data Newt has now acquired on Hermann’s appearance when he sleeps, and Newt doesn’t want to analyse that right now (the word “cute” has popped into his head, and is making him a little uncomfortable).

So with a note left on the desk on hotel stationery, Newt heads off. 

\--

It’s different when they come back to the hotel room in the evening.

They’ve had a good afternoon and evening, so far. Hermann drank his coffee while Newt showered and changed, and Newt did his hair while Hermann had the bathroom. There was a welcome event, with networking and most of all with food and alcohol, and they got to spend several hours in a large room with other people.

But now, it’s just them and a bed.

It starts out alright, with the changing into pyjamas and brushing of teeth and picking sides of the bed. The duvet is large enough to cover them both comfortably, and they’re both really tired, Hermann despite his nap and Newt despite all of the caffeine. The problem arises just as Hermann’s drifting off, when he feels himself being pushed towards the edge of the bed. Newt, in his sleep, has apparently decided that going full starfish is just the thing to do while sharing a bed.

Hermann pushes Newt back, just roughly enough that it might wake Newt, and tries again with the falling asleep. It doesn’t work; Newt continues to take up Hermann’s space.

“For fuck’s sake,” Hermann says, sitting up. “Wake up, Newton.”

Newt opens his eyes.

“I know for a fact it isn’t morning yet, so what’s up?” he asks, apparently unaware that he’s right in the middle of the bed.

“If we’re to sleep in the same bed, then you might want to sleep on your side of it. I’d rather not wake up on the floor.”

“Dude, I’m on my side of the bed.” He clearly isn’t, and Hermann digs out from his bag a tape measure to prove it.

“152 centimetres. That’s 76 centimetres each, making the middle right here,” Hermann says, measuring the bed and finding the halfway point - a line running through Newt’s left arm and leg. Whether it’s accurate or not is beyond Newt right now, as he doesn’t have his glasses.

“Do you just carry a measuring tape with you all the time? Like, in case you need to randomly measure something in the middle of the night?”

“I needed it now, didn’t I?”

“God, Hermann, get back in bed. I promise to stay on my own side. Unless you want a cuddle, dude, you look like you could use one.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“A guy who gets out a tape measure to divide a mattress is a guy who needs a cuddle. Physical contact relieves stress, you know.”

“I’d rather not have physical contact with you.”

“Suit yourself, but you’re missing out.”

“I’m regretting waking you now.”

\--

The rest of the night passes without conscious incident, but Hermann wakes in the morning to find Newt’s forehead against his shoulderblade, and Newt’s leg on top of one of his own. Hermann kicks vaguely at Newt and manages to free himself, takes the opportunity to use the bathroom and checks the kettle again, just in case it’s magically become less disgusting overnight. It hasn’t, and it’s too early for the hotel breakfast to be happening yet, so Hermann considers just going back to bed. It might be a bit of a challenge, though, as Newt has now migrated entirely over to his side of the mattress.

\--

The next night, Hermann uses the throw pillows to divide up the mattress. Before sleep, they sit up in bed like an old married couple, Hermann reading over his presentation notes, and Newt watching some terrible rom-com on TV because he’s already done his presentation and because there’s nothing else on.

The couple in the film, by some cruel twist of fate, are forced to share a bed whilst still in the enemy-phase of their enemies-to-lovers arc.

“That’s us,” Newt says.

As he says this, the couple moves on to the lover-phase, and Hermann raises his eyebrows.

“I should hope not,” he says.

Newt hits him with one of the throw pillows, just gently, and sticks out his tongue.

“And here I thought you loved me.”

Hermann says nothing, just smiles and huffs and continues going through his notes.

\--

The next morning finds the throw pillows scattered, mostly on the floor, and one of Newt’s arms around Hermann. Their faces are too close for comfort, and Hermann pulls away just slightly to give himself some breathing space. He feels dizzy as he watches Newt make faces at whatever’s bothering him in his sleep, listens to his barely-there breathing, feels the weight of the arm draped over him, burning him with its heat. It’s a shockingly intimate moment, and it barely feels real.

Again, Hermann extracts himself from bed, again he checks the kettle in case it’s magically not gross today. Again he is tempted to return to bed and sleep away the remaining couple of hours until breakfast. He doesn’t.

\--

Newt wakes up while Hermann is in the bathroom, and takes in the fact that he isn’t on his own side of the bed. His face is in a pillow that isn’t his - while it smells of the same detergent and hotel shampoo, its location tells him that this is Hermann’s pillow.

Dammit, he thinks. His unconscious self apparently has no sense of boundaries, whether literal in the case of the throw pillows or otherwise. He rolls back onto his own side of the bed and dreads Hermann’s reappearance from the bathroom.

\--

Hermann’s talk is in the morning, and they skip the afternoon’s schedule in favour of flying home that day. Newt struggles to stay awake on the plane, explaining that he didn’t sleep well.

“You can use me as a pillow if you like,” Hermann offers, and while Newt declines, his head does eventually fall on Hermann’s shoulder once he falls asleep. Hermann, in return, rests his own head on Newt’s and sleeps away the flight.

**Author's Note:**

> 152 cm may sound very specific - it is in fact the width of a US standard queen-sized mattress. The number makes more sense in inches, as much as anything can make any sense at all in inches. 
> 
> I don’t know if kettles exist in US hotel rooms (where this story takes place) but if they do, I assume they are as gross as European hotel room kettles.
> 
> I’m not referencing any real film, but I did consider at first doing a reference to Dirty Dancing and the "this is my dance space, and this is your dance space" bit. I changed my mind because I don’t want to presume familiarity with any specific aspect of popular culture, so I just made up a movie instead.
> 
> Finally, I’ve been to exactly one academic conference, and it was at my own university, so everything I know about going to conferences is based on the grumbling of lab mates.
> 
> Your fave is problematic: me. Writes unnecessarily long end notes about details that do not matter even a little.


End file.
